


ViceVersa()

by Grumpy_Bubble_Tea



Category: Transistor (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27630554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grumpy_Bubble_Tea/pseuds/Grumpy_Bubble_Tea
Summary: For those who may not know, Transistor was originally supposed to be a story of Red being stuck in the transistor and Boxer/Auden/Mr. Nobody going on a journey to avenge her throughout the game. The final product ended up being much different, and as much as I absolutely love it, I thought it'd be interesting to explore a few of the things in the story that would play out different if Auden was our protagonist and Red was the unlucky soul trapped in the Transistor. As a result, I will also be portraying her as the one who speaks primarily in the story, and as though Auden had his voice taken from him. This is all entirely experimental, and just an idea I thought would be fun to play around with. I may do multiple chapters of different events in the game with this AU, just to play around and explore what it'd be like.
Kudos: 7





	ViceVersa()

_"... Auden, will we really be able to get away with this?"_

* * *

Everything that evening had happened so quickly.

He remembered seeing her up on stage. Seeing the way she cradled the microphone between her two hands, the way she swayed like leaves dancing in the breeze to the music, the way her golden dress quietly flowed along with the air of the room, moving back and forth at its own gentle pace. The way her eyes shut, lined with makeup, so much emotion built in them from her song that she couldn't even keep them open for long. Her lips, soft, pillow-like to the touch, laced with a gentle pink color from the makeup he'd watched her apply earlier at the lit vanity in her dressing room. Her skin, shining, silky, smooth, glowing under the stage lights pouring onto her. Her hair, curled, fiery red in color--fitting to her name, he always thought--the ringlets of it pushed around by the gentle winds coming through. 

She always looked perfect. Nothing less of it. Auden knew nothing of makeup, nothing of fashion (he'd settle for jeans, even stained or ripped, and his usual jacket, and could hardly tell the difference between glitter and sparkles--They both shined, so what did it matter?-), he knew nothing of most of it, but he always knew she looked stunning. Breath-taking even, enough to make his heart sway, to make butterflies flutter about in his stomach like it'd become a nature reserve full of them, to make him weak in the knees, and pink in the face every time he saw her. 

In all honestly, she could wear a potato sack for all he cared, and he'd still see her as the most beautiful woman in the world. That was how much he loved her.

He loved her enough to cuddle her to sleep every night and kiss her awake every morning. He loved her enough to gently wipe at her tears when she cried and cradle her close to his chest, close to his heart until every last sniffle had left her be and every last tear had drained. He loved her enough to fight for her, taking boxing matches on the side to afford whatever he could to spoil her, even despite her protests, that she did not need all of the gifts he'd bring her. Sometimes for special occasions, sometimes just because. 

Because he loved her. 

So when she was up on that stage, holding onto the microphone as it sat perched in its stand, bellowing out to an audience of open ears and even more open hearts, he was absolutely smitten. Swore he fell in love with her all over again every time she stepped onto that stage, every time she sang a new note, every time her eyes opened and closed as she became immersed in the songs she'd spent countless nights writing. Nights he'd been there for, providing coffee for extra energy and tea for extra sleep (mixing in the sweetest kinds of honey he could find for her throat) once the caffeine had died down or the song was finished and there was no need for it. He'd been there the entire time, and still felt the awe and world-rocking shock of hearing every lyric for the first time when they were performed live. He could've sworn he'd faint, but he had to pull himself together. He had a job, after all.

To protect her. 

He was her bodyguard. He is her lover. He would die for her. 

He would never forgive himself for letting her die for him. 

In the blink of an eye, the crowd had fallen away from them. Her eyes shot open, the peaceful, serene air of her melody interrupted by a harsh, staggering new presence. 4, to be exact-All standing where the audience had just been mere moments ago. Despite her hours of practicing for her performance, words failed her now, shock rendering her silent as though the air had been stolen right out of her lungs as her eyes fell upon the four new figures in the room.

Sybil Reisz. A fashion-savvy young woman with a dress the color of clouds and hair the same texture as them. Red was never too fond of her, admittedly. Auden most certainly wasn't, being ever-so quick to throw a remark or two about her as soon as she was out of the room. He perceived her as a threat admittedly, both for her shadily social personality and for the love she bore for Red. He bit his tongue at the thought of jealousy that she aroused from him, but it was true. She'd fallen for those same ocean eyes and fiery hair. But the woman bearing those striking, gorgeous features was already his lover--Hell, she even wore the golden ring on her left hand to prove it--and he in return had given her all of his own heart. Sybil has no place in their relationship, and while Red was hesitant, cautious even of the girl, Auden was outright against her. 

Asher and Grant Kendrell. Lovers, much like Red and Auden, with one being an editor for the OVC and the other being an Admin of the entirety of Cloudbank. But just what exactly were such high-ranking people in society doing here? Neither Red nor Auden were sure, but clearly, judging by their perceived hostility and the gentle blue glow of something behind them that Auden just couldn't quite see yet from his angle despite his squinted attempts to get a peek at it meant they weren't here for the music. Whatever it was, Grant seemed to have a hold on it firmly, and Asher looked to him expectantly, as if waiting for a signal, or cue, or some other thing like that. Almost like Grant near-controlled him. 

And last but not least, Royce Bracket. Perhaps the only member of the four who didn't absolutely outright outdress Auden entirely, yet even that was up for debate, judging by his suit and tie, his pants clear of any stains, rips, or wear and tear, and a spotless lab coat resting on his shoulders. The one thing Auden had over him in style was the neatness of their hair; Auden's hair was decently neat, thanks to Red's attempts to lovingly comb and style it backstage, merely because she wanted to do such. He insisted it was unnecessary, because Hell, he'd be backstage the entire time, but if it made her happy, it made him happy. Royce's own locks were messy, fairly wild, certainly uncombed, and perhaps even unwashed for some time. But that aside, Royce was certainly the more professional of the two. Despite that, Auden felt no other overbearing intimidation from the engineer, aside from his sudden appearance at the show. He towered over him like a skyscraper, and was twice his size in muscle; He could take him on easily if he needed to.

Now whether or not he could take on all 4 at once was another question, but still, he was willing to find the answer if it meant Red got away without harm. Perhaps though, he'd be better off grabbing her hand and running. 

_Yes,_ that plan seemed perfect, for now at least. If worst came to worst, he could lift her up and charge away with her safely, securely held in his arms, with a grip that wouldn't release her for the world. At least then, the brunt of whatever attack the four friends had brewing would be taken by him and not her, as his back would be to them. But for now, it seemed good enough to at least make a run for it with her; Charge onto the stage, take her hand, usher her away with the wind even if footfalls would follow as they were pursued. 

_'Don't look back.'_ He'd tell her in a gruff, hoarse voice, his words hindered by his rapid breaths as he continued running, his feet slapping against the pavement as his hand held onto hers for dear life. 

_'But... But Auden-!'_ She'd cry, fear filling her voice, anxiety building in her chest, tears welling in her eyes. She'd try to look back at the four pursuers, her curls whipping out of her face and yet still messily bouncing about as she continued moving away. Without intending to, her sprinting would slow down, her mind distracted as she peered over her shoulder. She wouldn't be sure of what was happening, just that she was terrified, and trying to understand just what was going on. 

_'Don't look back--'_ He'd repeat desperately, fighting his own tears, fear getting the better of him. He could not lose her, not now, not ever, and so he'd merely yell, _'C'mon Red!'_ And charge even faster than he had before, even if his lungs burned for him to slow down, even if breaths eluded him, and even if his legs would be sore the next day. He'd keep running to safety. To ensure her safety. But this was all merely hypothetical. Right now, he still found himself backstage, just about to burst onto the main stage, to her, to make his plans come to fruition. At least, that was what he intended to do. 

He wasn't quite sure what held him back. Perhaps it was a twinge of _fear_ , somewhere in his heart, somewhere in the back of his mind, fear of the four that stood across from them now, fear for Red's life, fear for his own, fear for whatever the hell was supposed to come next after all of this. His heart raced, growing faster, to where he could hear it in his ears like a drum being played inside of his head, unable to shut the noise out. His breaths were rapid yet shallow, and he felt himself becoming light-headed now, all from fear. For a moment, just a quick moment, a second's time at most, he shut his eyes to take a deep breath and force himself to calm down before he charged out there. 

But that one second was all it took. 

When his eyes opened again, falling upon the scene once more, the glowing blue from behind Grant Kendrell had become a flying sight of blue light nearly blurred by its own airborne speed, projected across the distance between Grant and Red, crossing over to the singer in record time. It all struck Auden at once; The angular shape of the blue sword-esque object coming towards his lover. It bore a red-eye in the middle that stood out greatly amongst the gentle blue and muted gold of the rest of it. It looked heavy, in all honestly, dangerously so, like it would make his arms sore from trying to lift it too long, and like Red would struggle to lift it off the ground to begin with, but that was only his perception. It flew away from Grant almost seamlessly, frisbee-like in how nimble it moved, like the man had done this a hundred times before, almost well enough to make Auden question if he _had_ done this before. His arm was still unfalteringly outstretched from having tossed the blue sword across the few feet he stood from the woman on stage. But all that fear, all that hesitation--

It was enough to get her killed. 

The glowing blue of the sword cut through the sparkling yellow of her dress, tearing into the fabric, then into the skin, then into muscle and tissue, and all the other things Auden did not want to imagine it cut through in her. By the time he'd started his dash over, screaming her name, his tears finally falling, his legs growing weak, a sick feeling rising in his stomach like the sight was making him nauseous, it was too late. And when he approached her, unsure of what else to do aside from catching her as she fell backward from the impact, he caught glimpse of the emotion in her eyes. 

Fear. 

Pure fear as she was struck. 

Auden opened his mouth to speak, to scream her name once again, but before a single sound could escape, the duo was swallowed in a glowing yellow light and transported away in the blink of an eye. 

* * *

_"AUDEN...!"_

Red's scream sliced through the chilly, suspenseful silence of the air. He could hear her from nearby, within a walking distance for sure, still quite out of sight from where he now stood. He looked around anxiously, whipping his head back and forth, eyes darting to and fro, chilly air nipping at his skin from all directions as he found himself misplaced far from the Empty Set. Far from the stage, far from her microphone, far from the four assailants who'd taken them both off guard. Nobody was in sight still, the emptiness adding to the tense, still air in the atmosphere. His hair stood on edge, his breath was still caught in his chest, and his eyes were looking for one thing and one thing only.

Red. 

" _AUDEN!_ AUDEN--Where'd you go...!? Where'd... _God_ , I...!" Another fit of Red's voice piercing into earshot. Panic in her tone, he could tell, from how high-pitched it was and the way it cracked when she spoke. Her breaths were audibly hitched, and if he listened close enough, he could pick up on the sound of her crying. In his mind, he could see her face already; Streaks of black from her mascara running streaming down both of her cheeks, pink, puffy eyes and a nose in a similar rosy color from her tears, her mouth contorted into a deep frown. She was still afraid. Desperate to find her, to comfort her, to make sure she was alright, he sharply turned on his heels and started forward, where he'd heard her voice emerge from. 

The sky around them was dark and gloomy, though not dark enough to obscure his vision of her in the distance. It never would be, not so long as Cloudbank's many flashing neon lights would be on the distance and as long as buildings would still be lit up like beacons, with people working even at this hour within them. The city was never dark, never lifeless, never silent. It never rested, always wide awake, always bustling, always bright. Overwhelming, even, much like tonight, save for the violence he'd witnessed. Auden had never liked the city overly so, especially the part of it further away from the water, in Highrise.

At least, not until he found out Red had lived there. 

"Where are you...!? This... This can't be happening..." Her voice grew more desperate, tired even, perhaps from already being used up in her singing, and perhaps from the amount of screaming she had done already. Perhaps both. Regardless, Auden had come upon her now, jogging the rest of the way over and crouching down as he saw her. His eyes went wide with shock, tears of his own still pouring down his face like a broken faucet, silence having overcome him. His mouth fell agape. He felt the shock of it all over again; Felt everything and nothing at all from it. 

The glowing blue sword was still there. Still lodged in her stomach, stuck amidst the sparkling yellow of that dress she'd worn all day. Her body was limp, hands laid at each side, her head hung so that her curls fell over her shoulder too, a single tear still rolling down her cheek slowly. It left a black streak behind from her makeup. Auden, his hand moving shakily, trembling, carefully wiped it away with his bandaged fingers, as if to provide comfort. His hands were nothing like hers; They were rough, callous, covered in bandages to hide blisters, bruises, and cuts from all his boxing. Hers was soft, gentle. Felt like pillows when she cupped his face to kiss him. But now, they were laid at her sides, palms down to the ground, vacant. No pulse in the wrists connected to them. Still, he tried to be gentle and comforting with his actions, but whether or not that comfort was to her or him was unclear as they both needed it. The sword, laying still in her stomach now, shined again, this time with a gentle hum and air of warmth radiating off of it. Her voice seemed to be coming from it, and not from the limp, weak body it was protruding from. Her lips didn't move at all, and no breaths came in nor out of her chest. "Auden...!" 

"You... You're okay." Her voice settled a little now, still with a groggy, hoarse edge to it from her tears. She didn't sound entirely pleased nor calmed, but notably less panicked with him in sight. "Me...? I... I don't know. I really don't know." 

His eyes settled down on the sword as she spoke, and then back up to her face. The hand he'd used to wipe her tear moved to settle under her chin, nudging her head upwards just enough for her to make proper eye contact with him if she could open her eyes. His other hand rose a moment afterward to cup her cheeks, caress her face lovingly, run one of his thumbs over the makeup-covered skin on her cheeks. His lips trembled, words failing him now. She was still fairly warm, but it was fleeting. Her body grew colder with each passing moment. She didn't move to nuzzle into his embrace. She didn't lean in to set her lips against his. She didn't even smile. He remained stuck in place like a statue, disbelief washing over him still, hoping-- _praying_ that she would open her eyes. 

But his prayers would not be answered today. 

"... Auden, I know. I know, _I know_ , it's... Crazy. I don't understand it all myself." Her tone grew quieter, calmer. Soothing, almost. No other emotion was in her voice aside from the will to calm him. He could also hear a hint of pleading in her voice, begging him to understand as best as he could, that what he held in his hands now was nothing more than a mere husk. She was inside whatever thing the Camerata had dared to attack her with so boldly. "But I'm not in there anymore." 

"I'm... In this _thing_ , baby. Whatever this thing is. Let's... Let's go find those four and get some answers for this." 

His head leaned downwards before his eyes followed, hesitant to stop looking at that beautiful face he'd grown accustomed to seeing every day. When his gaze settled solemnly, slowly, silently upon the transistor, it came to settle on the burgundy eye that sat in the middle of the sword, breathlessly examining it. Looking into it, deeply, desperately, just to see if he could see Red in it. In the back of his mind, he wondered if she could even see him clearly, or perhaps with a red tint to his face through that rose-colored circle. He wondered if she could breathe, where she was now, if she even needed to. He had half a mind to try to break the damn thing open, like that would bring her back to him, but he didn't want to take a chance at bringing her any further harm if she could feel pain in there. 

His hands released her face slowly as if letting her go would truly make her slip away from him any further than she had already gone. His palms came to settle on the sword, his fingers tracing the hard, turquoise surface on it, as if he was tracing her skin now. But it was too different; Too hard, too angular; Not like her at all. The comparison was easy to make, seeing as her body was right there. Where she had curves, it only had sharp corners. Where she bore silky, sparkling, smooth skin, it only had a dull surface, that seemed to glow when she spoke but did nothing more. He could lay his head in her lap and rest there peacefully, or nuzzle against the crook of her neck, or plant kisses along her collarbone; He couldn't do any of that with this thing. He couldn't even feel the comfort of her warmth, of holding her close, of knowing at least if the world fell apart around them, she would be safe in his arms. It was the opposite now, the city surrounding them being as bright and lively as it ever was, but Red now having been struck down. 

In the end, that meant his world really did come crashing down around him. 

"Auden..." 

She spoke once more, the sword highlighting in its turquoise glow as she talked, even if only briefly. As it settled down to its dull color, Auden stood back up to his feet, his hands laid at his sides in fists now, nearly shaking as his fear and guilt turned into anger. Pure, livid, pissed anger, like lava building up in a volcano. He grit his teeth, glaring down at the transistor with that fiery anger dancing in his eyes through his tears. She could tell it just by seeing him; He wanted revenge, and he wanted it immediately. If he had his hands on any one of those four Camerata scumbags, he'd be putting every year of his boxing career to use in every swing, every punch, every kick, every slam--He'd knock the absolute daylights out of them unless Red pleaded for him not to, fearing he'd kill them himself. 

"... Will we really be able to get away with this?" Doubt laced in her tone, she threw the question into the air, already knowing his journey for revenge was something he'd already set himself to doing. His eyes softened, just a little, soothed by her voice and unable to contain his anger if he was in her presence. He opened his mouth to respond, to voice his thoughts, throw out a, 'I'm damn sure we will,' or some smooth, driven response like that, but no sound came out. He blinked once, pausing, and attempting once more to speak.

Silence. 

"... Auden?" Inquisitively, she spoke his name once more. He imagined that, if she still had her face, her brows would be furrowed with confusion. "I... Say something, will you?" 

He made a third futile attempt to speak, opening his lips once again, only for air to come out. One of his hands flew to his throat as if to signal that _he couldn't make a single sound._

"... Oh no." 


End file.
